Fatherhood
by NeverBeenDarkMarked
Summary: A series of peices on different fathers from Harry Potter... How did they feel about fatherhood?
1. Malfoy

Fatherhood, a big thing for anyone! I'm planning to write about different character's veiws on fatherhood.

Please review if you have a request for another father I can write!

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is J. K. Rowlings! If it wasn't for her none of these people would have even been fathers!**

* * *

><p>Narcissa cradled her new baby close to her heart. She still couldn't believe she'd done anything to deserve a child like this.<p>

"Look at him Lucius." She cooed, sitting down on the bed beside her husband. He turned his head to her, peering over her shoulder at Draco.

"Isn't he the most beautiful baby you've ever seen?"

"He is," The father agreed. "And he has your blonde hair."

Narcissa chuckled. "_Your_ blonde hair, you mean!"

She nudged him with her shoulder.

"Oh, I think it's too pretty to be mine." His wife rolled her eyes, but looked pleased.

"He has such tiny toes." Lucius suddenly exclaimed, staring in awe at the little left foot.

"The most perfect tiny toes." Narcissa crooned, tweaking them one by one with her thumb.

"Come here." Lucius pulled her into his lap and planting a kiss on her head.

"You've made me the happiest man alive Cissy."

Draco opened his icy blue eyes, pale as the moon and gurgled as if he'd understood.

"Oh, look at that." Narcissa held her baby closer. "My boy- Our boy."

"Our precious baby boy." Lucius added.

A hand lifted out of the bundle of fluffy blue blanket. Little Draco grasped a lock of his mother's hair.

"He loves you so much." Lucius still sounded awed. Then he spoke with a smile in his tone "That makes two of us."

Draco blinked up at his parents and gurgled again.

"Do you think he knows just how much we'd do for him?" Narcissa wondered aloud.

"I don't think anyone would understand the depth of this love." Lucius said, still locked in gaze with his son.

"Do you feel it too honey? How quickly he's establishing himself in the family. He's a whole new person. Wouldn't you do anything for our boy?"

"Anything," Lucius answered.

Narcissa looked away from their baby boy for a second, meeting her husband's eyes.

"I love you." She told him.

"I love you too."

They sat their and watched Draco fall asleep, his little fist still clamped around Narcissa's hair.

When the moon began to shine through the layer of cloud Lucius looked up. He smiled at the night sky.

Narcissa was asleep as well. Carefully he took Draco from her arms and placed him in his cradle at the foot of the bed, planting a kiss on his cheek.

Then he gently tucked his wife into bed, making her nice and cosy.

The Death Eater stood by the window for a long time after that, looking up at the moon. He'd never imagined these feelings to be possible. He'd always loved Narcissa with what seemed like all his heart, but now, it was as if he'd finally learnt what love was. His heart must have been twice it's usual size, the way it beat wildly in his chest. He was a father- him, Lucius Malfoy! And he had the most perfect child that had ever been born.

Turning back to the bed he smiled at the sleeping figures of his family.

Lucius Malfoy knew then. He would do anything to keep them safe. There was no line he wouldn't cross. Not now that Lucius Malfoy was Draco's father.

* * *

><p>Okay... next chapter coming soon...<p>

Review if you have any idea or just want to give some feedback!


	2. Weasley

Here's chapter two... It's Arthur Weasley, because he is an amazing father, and the main one in the series.

**Disclaimers: Harry Potter is J. K. Rowling's people! (not mine)**

* * *

><p>Arthur looked on as Molly read to their little family. He loved everything about her mothering. She had them all placed around her so they felt like equals.<p>

Little Ronnie was curled up on her lap, his teddy bear having it's ear chewed.

George was on her other side, grinning down at Fred as his brother mimicked Percy's wrapt expression. Books fascinated their third oldest already.

Bill was fairly laid back. He was sitting at the back with Charlie by his side, watching his siblings with a contented smile. He loved being an older brother.

Charlie was sitting in the exact same position as Bill and half leaned on the big brother he so admired.

And little Ginny was on Arthur's own lap. She wasn't asleep, but she didn't grizzle. She was propped up on his lap, Molly's brown eyes staring alertly out of her face.

Arthur wasn't really listening to the story. He was listening to Molly's lovely voice and gazing at his family, trying to wrap his head around it all. He was the father of seven kids- seven!

His wife was definitely up to the task. There was nothing that gave Arthur more pride then seeing the amazing, caring but firm way she'd taken to motherhood. Who could be a better mother then Molly?

Arthur's confidence diminished slightly. He looked down at little Ginny in his lap. The question wasn't whether Molly was the best mother, the question was whether he'd be a good enough father. And Arthur doubted that he'd ever measure up.

Molly suddenly finished the story. She snapped the book shut and smiled at her little dears. Bill was the first to moan.

"One more Mum, please."

Charlie, and then the rest quickly echoed him.

"Absolutely not! Bedtime for all of you!" Despite what they wanted they all obeyed Molly immediately. When they were gone she came to him and lifted Ginny off his lap.

"I'll put them to bed, let you relax for a bit." He told her. Molly smiled at him.

"Thank you Arthur. You're the best father they could ever ask for." He paused, stunned. Then a smile lit up his face.

"You're the best mother, Molly. I love you."

"I love you too."

Arthur took the stairs two at a time. Molly may have been a little biased, but he would live up to it anyway. He was going to try with all he had to be the father that deserved to raise the children of Molly Weasley.

* * *

><p>Please review, I have a depressing total of only one review for this story... :(<p>

And I will most definatly thank the lovely movingigrl for being my only reviewer!


	3. Dumbledore

Here's chapter three... I couldn't resist writing it now... so inspired for this one! Next will probably be Vernon Dursley, but I'm not fully decided yet...

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is J. K. Rowlings! If it wasn't for her none of these people would have even been fathers!**

* * *

><p>Percival was sitting in his office, reading the thick volume he kept on the desk at all times, when he heard the sound. It was a wail of pure terror. His head snapped up.<p>

It was a sound Percival would know anywhere. It was Ariana. This wasn't a usual cry of pain either. This wasn't what she'd do if she'd merely bumped her knee, or had a toy taken off her. This was a true cry of agony.

Within seconds Percival was up, out of his seat. He'd thrown open the door and taken the stairs as fast as he could, barely touching the ground. He burst into the kitchen and a horrible sight met his eyes.

Ariana was screaming, her head buried in Kendra's lap. Her mother was just as upset, her usually calm face fraught with concern. Her hand stroked Ariana's back as she tried to get her daughter calmer.

Percival was kneeling beside them in an instant.

"Ariana, honey, what's wrong?" he asked, feeling growing panic as he stroked her lovely head.

She shook her head and tried to nestle herself deeper into Kendra's lap. Kendra looked up and met Percival's alarmed gaze. Then her eyes went to something over his shoulder.

"Boys," Se said quietly "It's okay, go back to the living room and play, okay?"

Aberforth looked as if he wanted to object, but Albus sensed this wasn't the time and drew him back with a gentle hand on his shoulder. Neither parent noticed them sneak back and peak around the door, more subtly this time.

It took a very long time before the terrified Ariana turned to face them and they could see that she had bruises on her face, and a cut lip. She took gulping breaths as she blubbered out her story, casting anxious glances to the windows as she spoke.

Percival felt as though his heart had been set on fire. The blood pumping to his brain was boiling as a sense of rage spread over his whole being.

Muggles had done this, had they? And all because they didn't like her displaying a tiny magic trick. And here sat his little girl, broken and frightened, because of them. His hand clenched around the wand in his pocket. He had never been this angry in his life.

Kendra looked up, and when her eyes met is he saw fire burning in them as well. But her brow furrowed as she took in the wand he couldn't remember bringing out of his pocket.

"Percival, don't loose your temper, you can't go after those muggles."

He barely heard her, he could only see his daughter's broken figure. Kendra could stay here after-all, she could look after their daughter, she would keep her from harm. And that's why Percival lied to his wife, because she couldn't understand that this needed to be done.

"It's okay Kendra." His voice was remarkably calm "I'll just step outside and cool off."

Kendra, his beloved Kendra, who trusted him so much, nodded in relief.

"Come straight back." She said.

"Of course. I love you Ariana." He told the cowering bundle who seemed to have run dry of tears, but was still wailing and letting out dry sobs. "Daddy loves you."

And he did. He loved her so much. And those muggles, the two boys from down the street, were going to learn what a father's wrath felt like.

He stood in the empty road for only a second before he began to walk. He was going to do his duty as a father. He was going to protect his family at any cost to himself. He reached the house.

Blood still raging through his system Percival raised his wand. It was time.

* * *

><p>Please review... there's no point reading it if you can't give feedback... so please!<p> 


	4. Dursley

Chapter four... which I quite a bit shorter, sorry, but you'll live! So it's Vernon, and thank you movinggirl for the idea of doing him :D

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is J. K. Rowlings! If it wasn't for her none of these people would have even been fathers!**

* * *

><p>One of <em>them, <em>in his house. Vernon shook his head and huffed. Petunia was upstairs now, putting the thing to bed. He couldn't believe she wanted to keep it. That was his wife for you, though. She may be a very sensible woman, but she had too much love left over for her sister.

He had heard all about what her sister did to her, and even met her a few times, and he didn't like her one bit. Lily seemed like a horrible person, and, as Petunia so rightly put it, a freak.

And now there was a freak in the house, and it was all because Petunia read some letter that told her all she needed to know. She hadn't even let him look at it.

He turned his attention to Dudley, who was still playing on the mat and refusing to sleep. He was getting to be such a strong-willed boy. Vernon felt as though he could swell with pride. Dudley tottered up to him and opened his mouth in a wide grin.

"Dada," He said, holding up his pudgy hands. Vernon sat the boy on his lap, and as Dudley continued to play with his fat little teddy bear Vernon's face became set.

His son would not be pushed around by that, that _child_. He wouldn't allow one of _them_ to ruin his son's life. Dudley was a fine boy, the best there was, and his cousin wouldn't get in his way. Vernon planted a whiskery kiss on his boy's head.

"It's okay Dudders, Daddy'll keep you safe."

He had to, for his son. He would crush the – he stuttered mentally over the word – magic out of the boy, before his son was hurt. Dudley deserved a life where he would be pushed down, a set to the side because his cousin was a freak. Vernon wouldn't allow it. He didn't want that boy in his house, and he wouldn't take him with good grace.

After-all, he didn't want Dudley ever having to feel the same way Petunia used to, and when his boy's happiness was at risk, there was no line he wouldn't cross.

* * *

><p>Review, and remember I'm still taking suggestions as to which fathers you'd like to hear about :)<p> 


	5. BlackPotter

Here is another chapter... It's finally holidays here in N.Z (stupid Rugby World Cup mucking up the terms) and I have been writing away. So here is Sirius and his thoughts on being a "father" I know he's not really a father but... yeah.

Sort of near the start of his stay in Azkaban.

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is J. K. Rowlings! If it wasn't for her none of these people would have even been fathers!**

* * *

><p>James had always seemed like an awesome father to Sirius. He loved the idea of his best friend having a kid, and was left with no doubt that as soon as Harry was old enough he'd love his father to bits.<p>

But now that was impossible. Without James, Harry was completely alone.

And Sirius had to sit in this mangy cell in Azkaban and know that Harry was far from him, and most likely being raised to hate him.

Sirius wanted more then anything to get out of there, to tell Harry he would always be there for him. James son would never grow up unloved. He would never grow up without a father. When the time came, Sirius would be there.

As the dementors felt his growing certainty they came right outside his door and hovered there. Sirius felt the world getting slowly colder, the thoughts pressing in.

But he would never get out. Harry needed a father so badly and Sirius would never be able to be there. He would grow up alone, fatherless, with no one to go for help; no one to ask for advice, and Sirius would rot here...

He shook his head, trying to fight off the chill. He reminded himself it was okay.

He was innocent after-all.

It was then, as the chill seemed to be lifting that he though it more fiercely.

He was innocent, and, one way or another, he would get out. One way or another everyone would know. I mean sure it was completely impossible, but he could do it.

Especially when his god-son was counting on him. It was then that Sirius realised something. His thoughts weren't affected by the dementors. Odd, because they felt so strong, so vital, surely they would be noticed by the soulless beings. But he guessed it was because they weren't happy thoughts.

He smiled a twisted smile. How could he be happy, when, had he never convinced his best friend to trust Peter, James would be alive? How could he be happy because he was innocent? He was innocent and _in jail._

But not for long.

Sirius heard a mad, cackling laugh; a laugh that he had no doubt would belong to his deranged cousin Bellatrix. Bellatrix Black, or Lestrange as she was called now.

How he hated her, how he hated his whole family. The one spark of light, Andromeda was the only one still alive he thought anything good about.

As he listened to Bellatrix cackling he was reminded of his own father's harsh laugh. The amused chuckle he let out when Sirius' mother was picking at him. His father had enjoyed his pain, though he had been less vocal, because he had been a disgrace from day one.

But, until now, Sirius had never realised what he had learnt from his father, and his mother too.

He had learnt how to be a good parent from watching them _fail _at it. And when Sirius got out he would be a father, a proper, loving father. He would be the opposite of what his father had been.

Harry Potter could be an honorary Black. Or Sirius could be an honorary Potter, either way they were going to be the father-son team like the world had never seen before.

A broad grin began to light up Sirius' face. He suddenly felt happy again –

Cold, freezing cold pushed in on all sides, suffocating him again. Bellatrix had stopped cackling and allowed them to notice his growing hope. As the horrible thoughts and memories began to press in Sirius set his mind with all his might on his own innocence.

So he slumped on the floor he pretended the dementors were affecting him, but Sirius, despite the crowd of them outside his cell, didn't slip into the compressing darkness.

Because he was innocent, and he was going to be a father.

* * *

><p>Please review guys... Thanks movinggirl and Rose Weasley is AWESOME for their constant support throughtout this story. Don't forget to request fathers you want to hear from everyone :)<p> 


	6. Potter

Okay, this is James. I actually found this a little difficult to write, but I was reading right out of the book so I know I got the sequence of events right. Yeah, hope you guys enjoy!

Oh, and by the way I think Lupin will be next. It seemed to fit to put the Marauders together :)

**Disclaimers: Harry Potter is J. K. Rowling's. Without her none of these amazing people would have been fathers.**

* * *

><p>James loved the look on his son's face as he giggled up at the puffs of coloured smoke James made with his wand. He had never been more content with his lot in life then when he watched Harry laughing.<p>

Lily came into the room and smiled at the sight of them.

"Come on, it's time to get Harry in his bath, James." She said.

He let her have heir son, and, watching her scoop Harry into her arms he marvelled at what a perfect family he had. Dumping his wand on the sofa James yawned, stretching out and smiling as Lily rolled her eyes.

"Help would be nice." She grumbled good-naturedly at him. James laughed. But in that single moment everything changed. With a loud, echoing bang, the door crashed open.

Leaping up, James pelted down the hallway. It had better not be Sirius making one of his jokes again. Lily had hexed him last time he'd burst in like that.

Then he saw who it really was.

Lord Voldemort still held the wand that had blasted open the door.

James felt a rush of adrenaline come faster then he could have expected.

And he knew he was going to die now, and accepted it in the same breath. That part didn't matter, it was timing that mattered. Lily and Harry needed time to escape.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off-"

He knew that Lily's mothering instincts would take over, she'd get Harry out, and they would be safe.

He just wished his short time being a father could have been longer. But it was okay, Sirius would take over. Harry would still have a father, and they would tell Harry about him.

Voldemort laughed, a sound that held no humour, and James had barely steeled himself before the curse was cast.

As the jet of green light flew straight at him he heard the faint sound of a door shutting, and he truly believed then that Lily was now safe. He was sure, in that moment, that as Harry's father he had done the right thing.

When the curse hit, more quickly then he could have imagined his last thoughts crossed his mind.

_I love you Lily. I love you son._

* * *

><p>Please review and tell me if you like it. There are a few with this on alerts who have never reviewed, and it makes me sad :(<p>

But those of you who have reviewed, you are officially AWESOME! and ten points to whatever house you're in!


	7. Lupin

Another chapter up... and I forgot to do Remus' dad, so that will be next! Keep the suggestions flowing, thanks to those who have already given me ideas :) You guys rock!

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine!**

* * *

><p>Remus watched his radiant wife as she slept in their bed, a little bundle wrapped up in the cot beside her. Today her hair was a bright yellow and seemed to glow. He was happy.<p>

He sighed softly, knowing how worried she'd be when she woke, but this was something he had to do.

He went to the baby, seeing that little Teddy's hair matched his mothers he smiled very sadly.

Teddy yawned, alerting Remus to the fact that he wasn't asleep seconds before his eyes fluttered open. To his father's relief he made no sound, simply reached out pudgy little hands and grasped his dad's finger.

"Shhh," He murmured, leaning down to plant a kiss on his son.

Teddy let go of his finger and gurgled, trying to grab his nose instead. But Remus straightened up and was pleased to see that Teddy was too tired to make a fuss of him leaving. His son had a tendency to cry when people left him alone too long, he was so sociable.

Then Remus turned to his beautiful wife, the wife he'd never deserved, and kissed her as well.

Tonks stirred and he backed away, sucking in a breath. She settled back into sleep, facing the other way.

"Goodbye," He whispered and before she could wake and see him he slipped away.

"Andromeda," He said softly, finding Tonks' mother in the living room, a book open in her lap. "Please, please look after Dora. I have to go and fight. The war has begun in full swing."

"The war..." She echoed, looking a little shocked.

"We're fighting him, and I have to go. I have to make this world safe, for my family."

"Remus, if you leave her now, she'll be very cut up. I don't know that I should let you-" She looked toward the bedroom where Tonks still slept.

"I'm a father, a husband! It's my job to make the world as safe for them as it can be. It's my job to keep them alive and well! I can't even say goodbye; You know Tonks. She'll try to follow me. She'll want to fight. But I have to keep her safe. She needs to stay with our son!" He took a deep breath.

"Please. Help me. I need to fight for a better world if I want them to have better lives. But if Tonks sees me... If Tonks comes ..." He trailed off "She won't die for this. I'll fight for both of us, for our son."

There was a long pause.

"Andromeda, help me. Help me save your daughter and your grandson."

The older woman squared her shoulders, her face looking as far from her sister, Bellatrix's as it ever had before.

"I will keep them here. I will care for them."

"Thank you!" he felt relief flow over him. "Don't let her leave the house!"

"I won't." She promised.

"Remus..." Tonks confused voice suddenly came from the bedroom.

His head flew up to ace the door.

"G-go back to sleep, Tonks." He said, trying to sound confident.

"What are you-"

"I have to go!" he said to Andromeda, seeming panicked. "Don't tell her where I am."

And he all but flew out the door to apparate to the Hogs Head.

He had to do this alone, for his wife, and for his son. He had to make the world Teddy would grow up in into a better place. And Remus would do anything to fight for that cause.

* * *

><p>Yeah, so this is my take on what happened before the Battle of Hogwarts... I hope you liked it.<p>

Don't forget the three"R"s - read, review, recycle!


	8. Lupin2

Here's the naxt chapter, it was hard to writeso please cut me some slack if you don't like it... I hope it's moving, because it's sad.

**Disclaimer: Harry potter is not mine! (and it has multiple exclamation marks so it must be true!)**

* * *

><p>John ran up the stairs two at a time. He'd been patrolling outside all night, and was sure there had been no werewolves anywhere near. Greyback must have truly given up.<p>

But as he flung open the bedroom door he saw straight away that something wasn't right.

His son, his only dear, dear son, was lying before him. He was covered in blood.

And it was all John Lupin's fault.

He wanted to kneel beside his son and weep, but he had to close the windows and fix the broken glass, he had to make sure the werewolf couldn't return.

He heard his wife come in, running. She saw him and she fell to the ground beside Remus, sobbing.

"I'm sorry." John whispered as he joined her, trying to staunch the wounds with his wand.

"It's not your fault." She was looking at him, tenderness in her beautiful hazel eyes.

"Yes," He said silently "Yes it is."

"Stop blaming yourself." She frowned.

The she turned her attention back to her son and moved his head into her lap. John continued to wave his wand over the cuts, desperate.

"Stop it!" She snapped, jerking his wand out of his hand. "You can't heal werewolf bites like that."

"I know, I guess I just hoped." His voice broke on the last word. He should never have hoped anything. Then he might have been more vigilant. He couldn't believe this was what had come of everything he'd done.

Werewolf bites, the incurable terror of the beast every full moon. He'd inflicted that on his son.

John felt like crying, he wondered why no tears would come, perhaps it was the shock.

If he hadn't angered Fenhir Greyback, little Remus would have woken up happily like he did every morning. He would have come trotting down the stairs and greeted them happily, clutching his little stuffed wolf toy.

How ironic, John thought with a grimace. He didn't take long to find the toy, where it had fallen from Remus' little fingers.

The plush wolf looked nasty now, it's sewn on mouth seemed to be twisted, not in a joyful grin, but in a grimace. It's eyes, dark black buttons, seemed so much more evil. The blood, matting it's fur, made it a monster.

Something snapped and John threw it as hard as he could out of the window, letting out a deep, resounding cry of agony.

His wife was looking at him when he turned around.

"John," she said softly "He's waking up."

Remus opened blurry eyes and whimpered.

"It hurts." He said, is voice almost lost, it was so quiet.

"I know Remmy." His mother whispered. Remus lifted little hands and clutched at her.

"Mammy," He moaned "I had a bad dream."

John's heart broke and he was propelled forward without even realising it.

"Shh, it's okay Remus." He whispered, knowing his wife was too choked up to speak.

"Daddy," His little son whispered, trying to find him. "The monster was here. Daddy, I-"

Remus yawned and whimpered as it hurt his face.

"I'm scared." John stroked back his blood soaked fringe and planted a kiss on his forehead.

"I know it hurts, but you need to sleep Remus. Aren't you tired?" He whispered.

"Mmmm," His little son's eyelids fluttered shut without further encouragement.

"Maybe we should call St Mungos." His wife whispered, staring at Remus' prone form.

"You know what they'll do! They'll label him a freak. What if he's taken from us?" John didn't' want to loose Remus.

"Honey," She said softly, reaching up and cupping his face. "They will have to take him to St Mungos, but do you really think we wouldn't fight to keep him with us?"

"Maybe," He conceded. "There'll be Aurours on the way anyway, I told them we suspected something after Greyback promised revenge. I just thought, after the first four full moons passed and nothing happened, that I could guard by myself and have them search the property before and after. Why did I do it? Why did I think he'd stop? I can't believe I let my own arrogance get in the way of-"

"Honey, shhh, stop blaming yourself. No one could have predicted this."

"There are cures, though, aren't there? There are people all over who are searching for cures for lycanthropy." He asked, desperate, hands in his hair as if he'd pull it out.

"None that have been proven."

'Well, we'll try all of them!" He stood up and went to the widow, trying to spot the Aurours who would arrive in the morning.

Now he was filled with fierce determination that he knew would never go away until he had succeeded.

"We'll save Remus, we'll try every cure there is!"

He knelt before his sleeping son again. "It's okay Remus, Daddy will fix everything."

* * *

><p>Hope you liked it, don't forget to review... they make me HAPPY!<p> 


	9. Evans

Here's Lily's dad, Mr Evans as we don't know his actual name. It was hard to pick a moment, but I've decicded on this one :)

**Disclaimers: Harry Potter isn't mine!**

* * *

><p>Mr Evans went to his wife and whispered something in her ear. She looked upset and nodded. He headed immediately into the hall, and sure enough, there was their oldest daughter, sitting, dejected on the stairs.<p>

"Petunia," he said in a soft voice.

"Oh it's you Dad." She sounded bitter "Remembered me at last?"

"Tuney," He said, sitting on the stair beside her. "There's no need to be upset. I know you wish you were a witch too but-"

"I do not! I do not want to be a freak!" she launched herself up from the stairs, but before she could leave her caught her wrist.

"Petunia, we all love you very much, including Lily, and I know it's hard for you, but she really does want to make up. The two of you used to be so close."

Petunia jerked away, huffed and went up the stairs. Mr Evan sighed, burying his head in his hands.

His dear girls were so stubborn sometimes. Lily wanted to be friends again, but she was hurt by Tuney's distance. And Tuney, well she just wished she was magical as well. She seemed to think that they all liked her sister better then her.

He heard loud laughter from the lounge and saw Lily dance past the doorway, long red hair in a plait that bobbed at her waist.

It didn't help that she'd always been upset by Lily's obvious beauty. Petunia had the sort of quiet grace that tended to fade into the background.

He looked back at the doorway.

All of the grandparents were over to celebrate Lily getting accepted into her school, not that they knew it was a school of magic.

He smiled as he heard Lily telling another joke. She was such a bright, cheerful wee girl. He couldn't have been more proud then the moment he'd found out she was a witch. His dear Lily was special, they'd always known that!

But poor Tuney didn't even seem to be missed from the gathering. And with all the attention on Lily she was bound to be feeling more hurt then ever.

He noticed something glimmering in the light coming from the living room door.

Mr Evans followed the light and picked up a little bracelet, a simple plaited string of purple and teal that had a silver butterfly bead hanging from the corner. It as the bracelet Lily had made for Tuney when she was eight.

He bit his lip, knowing there was one in green and the same red as Lily's hair with the dragonfly bead hanging form Lily's wrist.

They had made them for each other, and promised they always keep them near.

He went slowly up the stairs and opened the door of Petunia's room. She was sitting on her bed, arms crossed and staring at the ceiling.

"Tuney," He said. She started and then frowned at him.

"Go away Dad, not in the mood." She snapped.

He came in anyway, sitting on the edge of the bed. Something changed in her expression and he got the feeling she'd secretly wanted him to stay.

"Do you want some supper?" He asked, knowing they were eating downstairs.

"No," She said.

"Oh Tuney,"

"I said no, if you're so hungry why don't you go sit with my perfect, beautiful sister!"

"Because I'd much rather sit with her very pretty, quiet sister." There was a pause, and then Tuney shifted her position nearer to him.

He got the feeling she'd been testing him.

Suddenly tears overflowed and went racing down her cheeks. His parenting instincts took over and he enveloped her in his arms.

"Oh Tuney, hush." He whispered.

"Why does she have to leave me-us?" Petunia asked, gazing up at him.

"Because she's different from you and I, she has to go."

"She doesn't have to forget me." Petunia said, sniffling.

"She'll never forget you, you're sisters." He held out the bracelet "You'll love each other forever."

After a long moment Petunia took the bracelet and tied it around her wrist, pushing it right back under her sleeve.

"But she'll always be the special one, right? She'll always be the one everyone loves."

Mr Evans took her hand and pulled her up from the bed.

"I don't think so. I would never be able to choose." Petunia let out a chuckle and stood up with him.

"Fine I'll come down with you, but don't expect me to make up."

Mr Evans sighed.

As their father he'd never stop loving them, but sometimes he wished he could shake them until they came to their senses.

* * *

><p>Don't forget to review, and no alerting of favouriting without reviewing!<p> 


	10. Longbottom

This is a sad... you have been warned. It was very difficult to write so I'd really appreciate reviews!It's Neville's dad, Frank Longbottom.

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is J. K. Rowling's, without her none of these people would be fathers :)**

* * *

><p>Frank loved his family with all his heart.<p>

He loved Alice so much he knew he'd easily die for her. And he knew she was nearby, he knew, despite the muddle of thoughts in his head right now that she might be in pain. But it was hard to tell if he screams he heard came from his own mouth, or from her.

He loved Neville so much he knew he'd die for him. And he knew he was so lucky to be with his grandmother right now. The possibility of his son facing this pain was more then he could bear.

And as the cruciatus curse paused for a fraction of a second he tried to regather his thoughts, wanting to escape.

But it hit again, somehow seeming worse then before. Was that possible, was it really possible that the fire in his bones could be hotter, was it possible that the skin could stretch any tighter over his head, that his brain could rattle any more violently in his skull?

It seemed it was.

He clenched his teeth together and tried to picture Neville's happy round face, so much like Alice's. But the image wouldn't come. In a strange panic he tried to shake the curse. He had to find his son somewhere. It wasn't possible that he couldn't remember his own son's face.

The curse stopped again, but his nerves were on end, numb at the suddenness of the ending pain. He heard her footsteps come closer before she spoke. Her voice was mocking.

"Are you ready to give up Franky?" Bellatrix laughed, a high pitched cackle. "Do you want to help us?"

He knew, for some reason, that she hadn't wanted any of these things, that she was just teasing him. And he knew he hated her.

"Never," He croaked, shocked at his own voice. The woman cackled and called "Crucio!"

And this time he realised the screams that echoed weren't his own. The pain had not come again with the curse.

"Alice!" He screamed, surprising himself at the sudden flow of air and sound in his throat. "Alice!"

But then the pain was back, and his teeth rattled before he clenched them together. And he may have been screaming again, it was hard to tell.

Was he dying? But what about Neville? What would happen to his son? And it troubled him again that he couldn't remember Neville's face. How could he love someone so much and not be able to remember them?

What colour were Neville's eyes anyway? Blue? Brown?

There was a splitting pain in the back of his head as well. Where did that come from? It was so painful. He didn't know what he'd been thinking of anymore.

And then, as if something snapped inside him he realised that he may never see his son again. He may never get to be a proper father.

His back arched as the pain intensified again, and he was hardly able to focus on anything.

"Alice..." He grunted. "Neville..."

These people were important, but why? He racked his brains. The pain was too bad. Couldn't it stop so he could find out who these people were?

And then, with a final snap, his head hit the ground and the pain consumed him. He knew he couldn't fight it. It was eating him alive. And in a moment of shock he realised that the curse was breaking him. And he'd never be able to stop it... not even for his son, not even for Neville.

...

The first day he had been told many things. He knew his name; he knew that other woman's name.

Alice.

She was beautiful. He felt like he should do something for her, but he didn't know what, and it frustrated him. He was sure he knew her.

Alice looked at him too, she smiled shyly back.

Then that nurse came in, that nurse who had told him everything else. She said Alice was his wife.

Wife, what did that mean? Surely Frank should know. But he didn't.

He liked Alice though, and even though she didn't know what wife meant either she reached her hand out across the gap between the beds and held his.

It felt nice.

Still, there was something missing, and as his eyes roved the room with Alice he knew she was looking for it too.

It wasn't until midday that it became clear what it was.

The woman who was his mother came in. He liked that woman. She'd been in here in the morning and told him she as proud of him. Then she'd hugged him and Alice and sat with them for a while. He'd wanted to talk to her, but he didn't know if he should, or how.

Now he looked with wide eyes.

There was a tiny person in her arms. And for some reason Frank knew he loved that tiny person.

He reached out a hand and was a little shocked when his mother put the boy in his lap. But Frank smiled at him and patted his head, not knowing what else to do.

"Daddy," Whispered the child, his lip jutting out. Frank was distressed. Why was the boy sad?

He patted his head again. The boy began to cry, tear pouring down his face.

"I love oo." He gulped. Frank nodded. He loved the boy too.

"That's Neville." Said his mother, looking upset. "Your son."

His son. Frank looked at the boy for a long moment. Neville was biting his lip and looking worried.

Frank finally leaned in and put his arms around Neville.

He let the boy cry into his pyjama top.

He loved Neville. He loved his son.

* * *

><p>Review remember... I'd love it so much :D<p> 


	11. Black

Here is Cygnus Black, and this has a slightly different feel to it, as it starts with a memory. I wanted to show how ashamed he is of Andromda, and how proud of his other two girls, enjoy!

Oh, and this is his opinion, not mine :)

And the "Mmmm, muggleborn" line is from a lovely comic from acciobrain, which you should go and check out :)

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine!**

* * *

><p>"<em>Andromeda, I have never been more ashamed in my life." He hissed, glaring at his daughter, lip curled back. <em>

_Andromeda stood, back straight, hair falling down her back, and looking every bit the proud, pure-blood daughter she should have been. _

"_You will forget this madness and come home to us, or suffer the consequences."_

_A smile twitched at the corner of her mouth._

"_I hardly see there would be any consequences. I will spend the rest of my life with the man I love, and, if you carry out your threats, I will finally be rid of the family who never loved me."_

_His eyes flashed, because he had once loved her. _

_She had been the most wayward daughter of course, the one who seemed to encourage her mad cousin Sirius, but he had loved like only a father could. He had tried to teach her all she needed to know, to make her understand her true worth, she was a Black after all, not some common scum, like those Weasleys._

_But here she stood, and the only gratitude she could show him was to turn up her nose at him and run off with a muggleborn, of all things. And now he saw the error of that love. He should have been harder on her, punished her more, indulged her less, and she could have turned out properly._

"_Go then, and make your enemies. But I warn you, my daughter, that this is not a family you want to face in a fight."_

_She looked at him bravely, but he saw the flicker of fear that hid inside her._

"_I will go father, and good riddance," She spat, before grabbing a handful of his floo power and throwing it into the grate so hard it dusted half the room, and her father, in ash._

Cygnus shuddered at the memory. He didn't give a toss about her now, shame of his flesh, disgrace to the family.

And almost without realising it, he reached inside his drawer and took out the wedding invite he still kept, though he didn't know why. She had written her own message on the photo of her kissing that mudblood.

**Mmmm, Muggleborn!**

He felt a little sick. The very idea of his daughter doing such a thing! She must have been angry that night, for it was sent with a message saying she invited them to never show up, and that she would forget them forever now. Her decision was final.

He shook his head and grunted.

She was his only mistake though. He reminded himself.

And this time he was brimming with pride as he took out the photo of his lovely Narcissa, positively radiating happiness on the arm of Lucius Malfoy.

They were the perfect pair, and just looking at them made him feel better. How quickly Narcissa had charmed the entire Malfoy family. She was just how a proper Black girl should be. And it even made him happy that she had managed to marry for love, because she was his baby, his youngest, and he wanted her to be happy.

He nodded to himself and set down the photo. The last thing in his drawer was a letter from his dear Bella. It was the day she had first gotten her dark mark. She had talked about it for a full three pages, and was so enthusiastic about helping such a good cause.

Cygnus and Druella couldn't have been more proud of her that day, and when she'd let Voldemort come into their house and hold a secret meeting, they were so honoured.

Cygnus placed the letter and Narcissa's picture back into the draw and smiled to himself. He wasn't such a bad father after all, he had even turned out two perfect daughters, and if the other had been a complete failure it wasn't his fault!

He lifted the photo of his middle child kissing that piece of filth and carefully took out his wand. With a flick it caught alight, the fire spreading across the paper from the corner up. Cygnus watched it burn with a kind of fierce joy.

The true daughters of Black where the ones that mattered, and when you looked at how they'd turned out, he couldn't have been a better father.

* * *

><p>Don't forget to review, it'd be awesome to bring this up to 50 in the next two chapters *crosses fingers* it's in your hands, as my readers, now!<p> 


	12. Prewett

Guess what everyone... EXAMS ARE OVER AND I'M BAAAAAAAAAAAAACK :D So to start things off I've got another chappie of fatherhood for you! It's Molly Wealsey's dad... enjoy :)

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine and blah blah blah!**

* * *

><p>"Dad?" she croaked.<p>

Mr Prewett turned and his shoulders slumped as he saw the only child he had left. His grown up girl.

"Oh Molly," he whispered. She looked awful, with bags under her red eyes and her hair dishevelled, but never had he seen a sweeter sight.

He opened his arms and she flew into them without hesitating. He stroked her hair as he felt fresh tears falling.

"My baby girl," he murmured. "My little ball of fire."

Molly smiled through her tears, looking up at him, and Mr Prewett felt as if his heart would break.

His only daughter and youngest child, his special wee girl, looked utterly broken. The spark of fire that had earned her the nickname seemed to have gone out.

"Why'd they have to do it?" She asked, her voice barely audible.

Mr Prewett turned his gaze to the open door. Guests still milled around the garden, paying their respects in hushed voices, as if scared the dearth eaters who had killed his two boys might appear at any minute.

His face crumpled at the very though of his two boys.

Fabian and Gideon had been so full of life. Everything the world threw at them, they had handled. He had never been more proud of his three children.

When they became so interested in the idea of doing right in the world, the whole family had worried for them. No one knew what could happen to those who went against the man who called himself Lord Voldemort.

And now they were lost, because of their stupid impulses to protect everything and everyone.

He didn't realise Molly had been watching him until she squeezed his arm. He didn't realise he'd been crying either.

"Let's not cry anymore daddy." She said softly. "They died doing what was right."

She looked to the open doorway too, and he watched her, a fierce protectiveness sparking deep within him.

"Molly you are never to join that Order. It's too dangerous." He suddenly said.

She looked at him, startled. Her brown eyes were wide.

"How come? They're fighting the enemy." She paused. "Sometimes I think it couldn't hurt to join. To get revenge. I wouldn't mind taking down a few death eaters."

Her face darkened at the name the Dark Lord's followers had developed.

"Molly," He was alarmed. He wouldn't survive if Molly went the same way as the boys had. "Molly, you must promise me."

He tightened his grip on her arm, brain overflowing with the image of her, surrounded, but determinedly fighting on. What if he lost Molly to them too?

"You have to promise me you won't join the Order of the Phoenix. There are enough fighters."

She looked at him for a long moment.

"They died like heroes, daddy. Fabian and Gideon did. It took five death eaters to take them down. And they took down some of the enemy on the way. Altogether, not such an awful way for life to end."

"Molly," He begged, overwhelmed by her sudden need to follow her brothers. "Please, I can't loose you. Molly?"

"Alright, I promise. I promise I won't join them... for now at least."

He sighed and let go. It was good enough... for now at least.

"Think of Arthur." He implored. "Think of the family you might have."

Molly nodded and made for the door.

"I'd better go and find him daddy. He'll be outside."

He nodded, his throat constricting.

It hurt so much. His family was falling apart, his sons gone, his daughter drifting away from him.

"I love you Molly." He whispered. Her face softened.

"I love you to daddy."

And she disappeared, red hair dancing around her shoulders. And even though she still looked upset, there was a new lightness, as if sharing her burden had helped.

Mr Prewett sunk into a seat.

It was hard, being a father in these troubled times. And it was so much harder when you realised just how easily your kids could slip away form you.

* * *

><p>Please review all you lovely people :)<p> 


	13. Tonks

Sorry about the big wait... but here's the next chapter... TONKS And her daddy!

By the way, this is set before she was able to control her powers very well... so her hair turned red when she got angry...

**Disclaimers: Yep, still don't own Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p>"She's the most amazing thing I've ever seen." Ted breathed, gazing down at the wrapped up bundle in his arms.<p>

Andromeda laughed and placed a kiss on his forehead before leaning tiredly against the pillows.

"A metamorphmagus," He said, more to himself then anyone else. "Our metamorphmagus."

The tiny baby in his arms opened it's eyes a fraction and wriggled. Ted reached out and let her clasp his hand and pull it closer to her chest.

"Andromeda," He gasped "Her heart's beating!"

His wife laughed. "Of course her heart's beating, what did you expect?"

Ted just shook his head in wonder at the feeling of the little thump under his fingers. Slowly a vivid yellow was seeping into the green, grassy colour that covered his wee girl's head of hair.

"What are we going to call her?" He asked.

"That's just what I was thinking." Ted turned his gaze to his wife for the first time since the baby had been handed to him. He was glad they'd opted for an at-home birth. The healer had left a few minutes ago, and they never could have had such a beautiful moment in the bustle of St Mungos.

Andromeda looked beautiful. Even having gone through the whole ordeal, her face was glowing with a fierce pride and determination. She was very pleased to have overcome this milestone on her own. She seemed delighted that she'd done it without the support of her family.

"I don't want any of our old 'Black names'" She said with a frown. "Even if some of them are very nice. I used to always plan on having a girl called Elladora. And Dora for short would be just perfect. That's been cancelled out now though."

He shuffled his chair closer and gave her hand a squeeze, being very careful not to jostle the baby.

"She looks elfin." He said at last. "Like a dryad... or, or a nymph."

"Nymphadora," She said suddenly, looking back at him "That's _it_- Nymphadora."

Ted couldn't help but smiled at her enthusiasm. And the name was absolutely beautiful too.

"Nymphadora it is." He assured her. Andromeda lay back down, a smile on her face.

"I love you, Andromeda." He told her as she fell asleep.

...

"Well it's the stupidest name ever and I hate it!" Little Dora was yelling. Ted made for the kitchen, following her voice.

Ted tried to grab her as she came racing out of the kitchen, and Dora lurched to get past him.

As she slipped out of his reach and stormed up the stairs he caught Andromeda's exasperated expression through the kitchen door.

"I'll go to her." He said, and Andromeda nodded and returned to her cooking. Ted made his way up the stairs.

"Hey Dora girl," He said from the door.

"Don't call me Dora." She said sternly, arms folded as she leaned back on her bed, her face screwed up in concentration as she tried to get the red of her brief anger to fade from her hair.

"What's wrong with 'Dora'?" He asked, she'd never objected to the nickname before, only her full name.

As he sat down on the edge of her bed Dora wiped angry tears away and rolled her eyes.

"It's a baby name." She said, as if that must be obvious. "If I'm going to Hogwarts next week you can't keep calling me _Dora_."

"What should I call you then- you are my little Dora."

Dora made a face. "I've been thinking about it, and I'll just ask everyone to call me Tonks."

"Tonks?" He said. Dora nodded firmly, eyes daring him to object.

"But _I_ can't call you Tonks baby girl, that's what I used to get called at Hogwarts."

Dora frowned. "But we never call you that at home, so there shouldn't be any confusion."

Ted couldn't help but smile at her determined expression. Her mother would have a heart-attack if she started calling herself Tonks.

"Don't laugh at me." She snapped, not missing his amusement. Ted quickly controlled his expression.

"How about we just call you Dora at home?" He asked. She looked grumpily at him. "Wait- and you can be called Tonks' at school."

"How come?" She pouted.

"I'm sure it would make things easier on your mother, and you only have one more week before you no longer have to hear us call you Dora at all."

Half of her mouth curled into an involuntary smile.

"Fine daddy." She accepted, in long-suffering tones.

"That's my girl." He said, giving her a quick kiss on the top of her head.

As he made for the door she called out again, voice much softer all of a sudden.

"I'll miss you Daddy. When I go to Hogwarts." She whispered.

Ted smiled "I'll miss you too, Dora."

She stood and walked down the stairs with him. Ted couldn't help but marvel over what a big girl she was becoming. She might turn out to be as independent as her mother had been before her. And he could never have been prouder.

* * *

><p>Review review review... PLEASE?<p> 


	14. Lovegood

Here's a rather sad one on Xenophilius Lovegood!

There are going to be a few changes with this story! It might not be updated as often, because now I'm only updating on _request! _So no next-gen until I've gotten tons of fatherhood requests and there are no more possibilities! Then I'll do next-gen and then It'll be over!

**Diclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine, as you well know by now! **

* * *

><p>Xenophilus watched his wife swing little Luna in a circle inside the picture frame on his mantelpiece and sighed. What would his dear, dear wife say if she was alive to see this now? If she knew Luna was gone?<p>

And it was all his fault.

Xenophilius gulped and wiped his nose with his worn robes, noticing numbly that he hadn't changed in days, nor had he shaved he thought, rubbing his bristly chin.

Not that it mattered, why should it? When his baby girl was gone!

He looked around the brightly painted kitchen and felt like crying. The first time Luna had painted it had been shortly after her mother's death. She had needed a chance to recover, to let out all her pent up emotion. And he had, in his grief ridden state, finally realised that.

He had given her some tubs of paint in all the brightest colours and taken her to the kitchen. Luna had looked at him, tears welling in her large dreamy eyes, and thrown her arms around him. Then she had let go, thanked him in a steady voice and dipped her hand into a paint bucket.

Day after day she would be found painting the kitchen, until, exactly one month after her mother's death Luna had declared herself finished.

And ever since then she would add another coat on every anniversary of her mother's death. She would make a new design.

But it was missing it's most recent coat.

Xenophilius stood and walked to the cupboards, tracing his hands over every pattern and picture, deeply distraught.

How could he have let this happen? Luna was all he had, she was everything! You could find no girl in all the world you was more radiant then Luna. No girl with the same spark.

And he had lost her when she needed him most! What could be more important then family, what could possibly hold priority over his baby girl?

And it was all because of his _stupid _Quibbler articles! What had he been thinking to go up against them? Against the Death Eaters?

He'd been sure he'd been doing what was right, and maybe it had. But at what cost?

Why hadn't he left it alone? Other people could support Harry Potter, other people could be noble, and good and true, but not him! He would only protect Luna now, she was his top priority!

And he half hoped he would find Harry, yet half hoped he wouldn't. Luna was be so mad at him if he did turn Harry in. But if she was alive it didn't matter! If he saved her he could live through her anger, knowing she was safe once more.

He trudged slowly up the stairs to her empty room. Glaring up at the painting of Harry's face he cried out in anger. All of Luna's friends were up there, but it was Harry's face that haunted him now.

His eyes were too wide and honest, stirring guilt deep within him. His jaw was set determinedly, and the lightening scar stood out vividly on his forehead.

Xenophilius quickly averted his yes. The paintings of her friends had taken Luna days, and they looked amazingly realistic. They were too realistic! With her eye for little details, and perceptive nature, she'd captured them so well. It was one of the many things he loved about her.

Looking back into Harry Potter's face Xenophilius let out another roar of pain, he flung a tiny paperweight from Luna's beside table, and watched it shatter over Harry's scar.

"Are you happy? " He screamed into Harry's face, as the boy blinked in shock, looking too kindly for Xenophilius to glean any comfort. "You're ruined my life! You're taken my daughter! Are you satisfied?"

With another broken sob he swept his wand over the broken glass, and it cleared away. Xenophilius gave another broken sob and fell to the floor.

"I'm sorry," He whispered, wishing he could talk to his dead wife again, have her lift him from the floor and plant a kiss on his forehead, like she used to.

"I'm so sorry. I've failed you, as a father, and a husband. I've failed at the most important thing in life."

And so, the next day, when Harry Potter and his two friends knocked on the door, Xenophilius understood what he had to do.

* * *

><p>Please review, please please please, and don't forget your requests when you do!<p> 


	15. Dumbledore2

Readers: GOSH! Finally you update! We were giving up on you! What on earth took you so long?

Me: Sorry, really really sorry, I didn't intend for suich a big wait, but school got in the way :(

Readers: That's no excuse!

Me: I'm sorry! But I got good marks on my English Essay... and I'm updating now, according to your requests...

Readers: hmp!

Me: take ten house points each for your patience!

Readers: OKAY! Forgiven...

...I hope...

Readers: Just shut up, stop talking to yourself and let us get on with the actual story!

Me: Fine, here it is, and **I don't own Harry Potter!**

* * *

><p>Dumbledore shook his penseive and watched the transparent figure of a young Regulus rising up and saying the same thing in his annoyed voice, wanting to be left alone.<p>

Dumbledore sighed. He'd been watching the same memory for at least half and hour now, and still, nothing.

For days he had gone through every memory of every student ever connected to Voldemort. This particular one showed Regulus soon after his decision of join the Death Eaters officially. He had been very adverse to anyone tyring to help him out.

Yet it revealed no new information to him, even when, in third person, he'd had the chance to watch the faces of Regulus' friends as he quizzed him. And every other background detail. Now he was jsut listening to the boy's voice, and watching his eyes.

Dumbledore sighed; maybe this was enough for one day.

He was completely over-exerting his brain, there was nothing more he could stuff into it today, or he'd collapse from stress. And then he'd be no help to anyone.

He whipped off his spectacles and wiped his eyes, sighing and leaving the glasses sitting on the bench as he pushed himself back and began to pace.

It was like keeping track of a thousand children. Although, if he thought about it, it was almost as if he _did_ have over a thousand children.

He was, in a way, the father of Hogwarts. In his time here he had known, and loved so many students. He'd been proud of their achievements and upset when they failed him.

Albus turned abruptly and continued pacing, glancing at the penseive in annoyance.

And no matter how many times he went through, he couldn't find that crucial bit of information to help him defeat that one student who had gone fully bad.

_Deep breaths, Albus. _He told himself, knowing just what sort of terrible magic he could be capable of when angry.

He had almost blinded Minerva the last time he tried a simple 'lumos' in this state. It was a good thing he was usually able to control his temper.

He wanted, no, he needed to protect his current students, and those that had left the school.

He sighed and shook his head. It was such a hard feat, protecting all his kids. With a dry laugh he told himself he really shouldn't have had so many.

But he wouldn't have given up teaching for anything, and he was bound to feel attached to the kids he taught, it was a given.

Slowly he took deep breaths and his pacing slowed, his thoughts becoming more organised. Perhaps there wasn't anything else in Regulus.

He had narrowed him down to two specific memories that would really need considering. First there was the one he'd just been looking at. And there was also the haunted look in his eyes when Albus had caught a brief glimpse of him, and tried to stop and talk to him, just few days before his death. His attempt had failed and Regulus had escaped him without answering any questions, there was nothing more to see in that.

Dumbledore sighed and shook the penseive one more time before putting it back in the cabinet.

"Ah well, nothing more for today, Fawkes." He said. The phoenix, just having passed a burning day, tucked it's tiny bald head back into the scarf Albus had left on the desk.

Albus replaced his spectacles smiled and moved to the window, gazing out at the gatherings of students across the grounds.

A couple walked back towards the castle, hand in hand, and Albus smiled. He adored the signs of young love among the students. It made him feel so accomplished to see the beginnings of relationships popping up in the school.

He made a mental note to tell Minerva and Pomona, who had a bet going on how long it'd take these two to go out, and looked away to other kids.

He beamed at the sight of Luna Lovegood talking to Ginny Weasley; he'd wanted the bright young witch to make friends for ages. Luna was so misunderstood.

And his gaze continued to rove over the grounds, picking up little details as he looked.

After watching a few more groups moving about Albus realised he was completely calm, laughing and smiled at the antics of the students.

After all, what could please the father of Hogwarts more then to see it's students thriving?

And perhaps, after a good feed in the Great Hall, he'd be in the right frame of mind to begin on his memories again.

* * *

><p>So it's been Dumbledore, written for skaterofthebooks :D<p>

And he missed Regulus' knowledge of the horcruxes :( Just not right memories to go over!

And please review... even if I am a crazy person ;)


	16. Hagrid

Hagrid this time! It took a lot of looking through interveiws to find out where he was from... JKR said in West Country, but on another occasion she said that his accent matched the one from Chepstow in Wales... so I went with Chepstow.

Oh, and since his dad was never named I've called his dad Hagrid and him Rubeus!

**Disclaimer: HP is not mine! **

* * *

><p>Since Fridwulfa left him, Hagrid's only comfort had been his dear son, Rubeus. He loved him more then his own life.<p>

For a time he'd been heartbroken, and had spent most of his time awake crying. He hadn't been able to grasp the fact that she'd left him.

But he'd finally realised that Rubeus was to be treasured and kept safe. He was growing so fast and he needed a Daddy. So he'd pulled himself out of depression for his son.

Already taking after his mother, Rubeus towered over Hagrid.

Hagrid smiled as he watched his son walk around the garden one more time. Hagrid had been outside all day. He had a new obsession with knarls (not nearly a big as his one with dragons) and was trying to attract them.

It was mainly because he'd left milk last night to see if the knarls would destroy the garden like his big animal book said they would.

They had, and Rubeus was officially obsessed.

He was examining the damage and exclaiming loudly. It was so endearing how fascinated Rubeus had always been with creatures. Hagrid loved him even more for it.

"'Ey Daddy!" Rubeus yelled out. "They completely twisted the bowl up!"

He ran to the window where he could see his father and held up the twisted mess that used to be a metal cat bowl.

"Amazingly powerful fer such little creatures aren' they?" Rubeus marvelled, handing the bowl to Hagrid and grinning. His hair was long and shaggy and flopping in his eyes, he pushed it up now so that he could see better.

"It's amazing Rubeus!" Hagrid told him, smiling slightly because he was looking down on his son for once, the window being higher then the ground below.

Rubeus wandered back into the corner of the garden where his pumpkins had been pulled up and began to push them back down and cover then gently with the dirt. As he ran his large hands over them they seemed to repair slightly, and Hagrid could tell he was using magic to help them heal.

He'd spent a while wondering if his son would ever get magic. There weren't a lot of half-giants in the world, so he hadn't really known if the wizarding gene would come through. It had though, and his son's magic was slowly blossoming.

A movement out of the corner of his eyes distracted him, and he leapt out of the way just in time to let a bedraggled owl swoop in the window.

It clutched a thick yellow parchment envelop in it's talons. As Hagrid picked it up he noticed a purple wax seal with a coat of arms stamped into it. He gasped.

"Rubeus, come inside! Quickly!"

He saw his son standing up and casting a worried glance through the window before running in.

"Wha's wrong dad?" He asked, looking around.

"Nothing, you 'ave a letter, that's all." He held it up. Rubeus looked puzzled, but took it anyway.

_Mr R. Hagrid  
>The bedroom by the shed<br>Oak tree Cottage  
>Chepstow<br>Wales_

He split the seal and pulled out the letter. It took him a few seconds to scan it, and then he gasped.

"I can' be!" Rubeus was beaming as he lowered the letter. "HOWARTS?"

Hagrid grinned and nodded excitedly.

Rubeus grabbed him in a bone crushing hug that lifted him right off his feet. When he pulled away his father was crying.

"Dad, it's okay." Rubeus said, unable to keep the smile off his face.

"It's more then jus' okay!" Hagrid whipped furiously at his so he could see his dear son. "I'm so proud o' you."

And his was- so proud it felt as if his heart might burst out of his chest.

* * *

><p>Awww... I love Hagrid's daddy, so sweet! Do review!<p> 


	17. Granger

Long time, no updates! I'm very sorry... but i have been sooooo busy lately I've ahd no time for ANYTHING! But I wrote htid emotional chapter and here it is :D Hermione's daddy!

I looked into it and I think Ron and Harry would have gone Heriome to find her parents and restore their memories. I was also trying to get a grip of wat they'd look like. I think Hermione's Mum would be Jean (her middle name) and that she'd have sleek curly hair, while Hermione's dad would have bushy hair... so that's where that came from. But I think other then that Hemrione would look very like her mum!

**Disclaimer: You know I don't own anything!**

* * *

><p>"Hello," The girl said nervously, licking her lips and looking as if for reassurance at the tall ginger boy and the green eyed one behind her. "M- May we step inside? We have something important to tell you."<p>

Confused, Wendell held open the door and let them step into the house. It was brand new, they had recently moved in, because they had always wanted to move to Australia. Their dream home in their dream location.

Monica, his wife, was sitting in the living room and they all sat down together. Wendell took the seat beside her.

There was a long pause as the girl looked around the house, seeming slightly curious despite her anxiety. She sat on the very edge of her seat, unlike the tall ginger, and green eyed boy with the messy black hair who had followed after. They seemed fairly at ease apart from their concern for the girl.

The ginger took her hand and squeezed gently. She smiled at him and began with a deep breath.

"My name is Hermione Granger." The name seemed to ring a bell, though Wendell wasn't sure why. "I live in England. And- please don't judge me, or- or be too shocked. It's just that I'm-"

She broke off; her teeth resumed worrying nervously at her lower lip. The boy with the messy black hair leaned forwards "Go on Hermione," He encouraged, but it wasn't until the Ginger had put his arm around her and nodded that she was able to finish.

"I'm your daughter."

There was a long pause before what she was trying to say sunk in fully. Wendell frowned. "Excuse me?"

"I'm your daughter," There was more conviction in it this time.

"Do you have any proof?" He asked, vaguely aware he sounded rude, but not really bringing himself to care. It was like a joke, a prank. It was a waste of time.

"I do, I really do," She looked up at him earnestly and he noticed immediately she had Monica's eyes. Wendell shook himself. It was ridiculous! They'd never had kids, hadn't that very fact caused them enough pain over the years?

"May I explain?" She asked, and when she turned her head her saw a swing of bushy hair, a little curlier then his own, but still very similar. He clenched his teeth and looked down at Monica.

She was staring at the girl, Hermione, as if she was trying desperately to remember something. Anger welled up in Wendell very quickly. It hurt to see his matter-of-fact wife so desperate to believe such a far fetched story. She had been wishing for a kid more and more as time went by, and it killed him to see her so hungry for one when he had never given her one.

Hermione was waiting patiently, and he realised she wanted an answer to her question. "Sure. I'd like to see this 'evidence',"

Hermione flinched visibly at the tone he used, and he immediately felt a little guilty. He just couldn't stand the idea of her hurting Monica like this.

"You aren't going to believe me at first, but I feel I should explain before I..." Hermione trailed off and took another calming breath. "You had me back when you lived in England; you used to be the Grangers then. I grew up with you and when I turned eleven I got a letter from a place called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We found out that I am a witch-"

Monica's head drooped on her shoulders, and she looked as if she were blinking back tears. Wendell put a protective arm around her shoulders and glared at Hermione.

"Is this your idea of some sick joke? How dare you come in here and try to convince us that you're our daughter! It's inappropriate! This is going too far, and not in the least bit funny!" he snarled art the trio that were looking startled. Hermione wiped rapidly at her eyes and whispered.

"Please, let me-"

"Get out! Get out of our house!" Wendell yelled. His yearning for a daughter made it ten times as bad, the fact that this young woman, or one like her, could really have been their daughter, yet insisted on parading through and telling stupid stories and rubbing it in their faces they'd never have someone like her. They'd never have their own little girl.

"Please- I-" there were tears pouring down her cheeks. "Dad, don't-"

That word, 'dad' said in the sweet sad tone of voice, made him falter for a beat. It echoed in his head a million times from the mouth of the dream child he'd wanted for so long. In a voice fairly similar to Monica's as well. Hermione took advantage of his confusion.

"I can prove it. When I was in my Seventh year I had to leave you for your own safety." She spoke quickly, as if afraid of being stopped again. Wendell pulled Monica into a tighter hug as Hermione quickly continued. "I had to use magic to alter you memories, but I can bring them back, if you'll let me."

Under his blank stare she pulled a long wooden rod- a wand, Wendell realised- from her pocket and held it up "There's no harm in it, if I'm not a witch, nothing will happen."

Wendell eyed her wand and gave a harsh laugh, "Sure, you try it out and then get out of here. A lot of good it'll do you." He scoffed.

Hermione closed her eyes and focused as hard as she could on them, muttering a string of unintelligible words under her breath.

There was a pause, and then...

Suddenly flood of data seemed to rush into his mind. He remembered his old name and his old life. He remembered his dear, dear daughter, Hermione. Wendell- Mr Granger clutched the sides of his head as it all came together, waiting for the mess to sort out. He waited for the madness in the mess of new information to fit in. He realised that the girl was right, that she was his daughter. But it wasn't sinking in. It floated and pounded in his head. Confusing him.

"Oh Ron, I've driven then mad," Hermione said faintly, clutching the red-head's arm behind her, crying harder now.

From her place beside him Jean (not Monica, Wendell knew now) stood up with a little cry and pulled Hermione to her in a tight hug.

"Mum," Hermione sounded weak with relief.

"You have a lot of explaining to do. How dare you go running of and changing our memories." Jean growled, but she was smiling and crying despite the reprimand.

Mr Granger stood up ever so slowly and stared at his daughter for a long moment. His brain was still whirring, but it made sense now, he understood.

Oh- he was a father- of course he was a father!

He opened his arms and Hermione flew into them. Her hair tickled his nose, just like it always had.

"I love you honey," he whispered.

* * *

><p>Please reveiw... I really would value feedback on this one especially!<p> 


	18. Riddle

Our next chapter is Tom Riddle Senior! A great idea from owluvr, so many thanks to her :D And we have two parts to this, bestotted love potion Tom and then Tom the morning the love potion wear off! Do enjoy!

**Disclaimer: !Rettop YrraH Nwo T'nod I**

* * *

><p>"Honey," Tom greeted Merope with that smitten smile, "You look beautiful."<p>

Merope blushed, still smiling. Tom smiled even more widely, completely cotent to be in her presence. Her blush was adorable. She was glowing. But, Tom watched her closly as she averted her eyes and stared at the ground, she had something she wanted to tell him, something important. He knew her so well.

"What's wrong?"He asked softly, squeezing her hands.

"Oh Tom," Merope gasped. He loved it when she said his name. "It's not bad at all. It's wonderful, you'll be so happy!"

It burst out of her as if she couldn't bare to hold it in. Tom nodded attentively, watching the emotions play across her face.

"Then why do you look so guilty?" He asked, full of concern for this beautiful creature.

"It's nothing. I made the right choice, didn't I?" She seemed to be talking to herself more then to him. Her gaze turned with sudden intensity onto his face "You're happy, aren't you Tom?"

"I'm more happy then I've ever been in my life. I love you." He always reminded her of it. She didn't seem to be confindent in the fact. It was so sweet and endearing of her.

"Oh Tom, I love you too." To his distress she blinked back tears. But before he could wrap her in his arms and comfort her she turned her doleful eyes on him. "That's why I need to tell you something." She took another deep breath before Merope finally gulped out "I'm pregnant."

Tom blinked in shock, absorbing the information. Then he exploded with happiness. "Merope! That's the best news in the world!"

He swung her up in his arms and spun her in a circle, getting a laugh and a delighted smile. Then her carefully set her down and pressed his hands to her belly, giddy with joy, ears full of the sound of her happiness.

"Oh our baby will be the cutest thing in the world." He looked up at her beautiful face. Her hooded eyes, thin hair that had slowly lost it's straggly look after they left the villiage, and her heavy pale face. She was perfect. "I hope the baby looks like you, beloved."

Merope looked uncomfortable, but honestly shocked. "I hope it looks like you."

She adimitted. Tom laughed. Their lives were so perfect. Merope would be the perfect mother. And he couldn't wait to be the father of a perfect child.

… 5 months later …

Tom rubbed his head groggily as he sat upright. He felt odd, strangley light, and almost free. It was as if a weight he never noticed was there had been lifted from his shoulders. With a slight shake of his head Tom opened his eyes and took in the room around him. It wasn't his own, nor did he think he'd ever been here before. It had the bare look of a brand new home that wasn't yet furnished properly, or Motel room. How had he gotten there?

His thoughts were a little clouded too, as if waking from a nightmare. With another head shake he tried to make sense of his situation. As he streached his hands in front of hiim he spotted a wedding ring enclosed on his finger. With a start he re-examined it. He hadn't been due to marry Cecilia yet. They only got engaged a few months ago. Or had it been just a few months? His thoughts still seemed muddled.

Suddenly the door swung open and a loud exclimation reached his ears. "Tom! You're awake! I didn't think you'd wake up for a while. I haven't got everything ready."

At the sight of the girl it was as if his memories came flooding back in. Riding past her house. A hot day, a cold drink. Falling head over heels for her. Running away with her. Marrying her. Kissing her and... Tom jerked up out of bed and flattened himself against the opposite wall.

"Don't come any closer you- you enchantress!" He snarled. Looking at her now he was disgusted. To think he'd loved _that! _With his true thoughts back he was shocked. The vile wrench had given him a love potion! She must have! She was horribly ugly, although better cared for then she used to look before she'd had his care and aaffection.

And a terrified expression crossed her face as he backed away. She looked horrified. Her hands jerked up and cradled a bump under her long robe.

_NO! no, _Tom's thoughts seemed to be aplified into even greater horror as he scanned his memories. _A child? She's pregnant?_

"Tom, it's okay. It's me." She said softly, tear flooding her lopsided eyes. Tom sneered at her, disgusted. "You- you love me remember, I thought you would always love me. Even without..."

"You're are a sorcress and a liar. I never loved you. Not really." He hissed, pleased to see it caused her pain. He felt used.

He needed to escape. To go back home. But what would his parents say? They'd be shocked! They _were _shocked. He remembered the day he'd brought Merope to them, proclaiming his feelings. They hadn't accepted, so he'd eloped. How dreadful. If only they'd stopped him.

They'd take him back though, and the witch could die for all he cared.

"But Tom, you- you said you'd always love me." Merope stuttered hopelessly, lower lips trembling. "Don't leave me Tom. I'm pregnant. He's your son..."

"I don't care. I hate the pair of you." Tom yelled, surging forwards and yanking the doors of the wardrobe open.

"Tom, no!" Merope begged. "I can't live without you! Please- I-"

Her eyes fell on the slender stick at Tom's feet. He recognised it as her wand just in time and grabbed it, flinging it at the wall behind him. Merope gasped as the wand fell to the floor, a crack up the side. It didn't fully break, but Tom didn't have time to consider it and break it properly. Her grabbed all the clothes from the wardrobe and stuffed them into a suitcase lying at the bottom.

Merope was sobbing, she took a step towards him, but Tom shoved her to the ground and banged the door open. It took him only a second to grab a wallet that lay beside a steaming pot of porridge, and disapear.

Tom emearged from the front door and ran down the London road. He ignored the odd looks he got for his pyjamas and bedraggled state.

He was going to go staright home and return to his old life. He'd tell everyone Merope had smiply tricked him. He didn't want to think about that wretched woman or his unwanted child again.

And Tom never once looked back.

* * *

><p>Aww... Poor Merope! I was going to crack her wand, but remembered that after this she goes to sell her locket in Knockturn alley, and she'd need her wand for that! Anway, please please reveiw! And more requests would be awesome!<p> 


	19. McGonagall

Here is a chapter about McGonagall's Dad. All info came from Pottermore by the way! Her backstory is awesome! But yeah, it's a little sad, sorry!

**Disclaimers: Harry Potter isn't mine... though I do own a rather lovely Disney Princess Encyclopedia that I'm rather pleased with :D**

* * *

><p>Robert hummed softly to himself as he wrote up his sermon for the next week, the Hyms from the previous Sunday still running though his head. It was eerily silent, yet somehow calming to be in the Church at night. Robert loved it, the moon rising to shine through the bright stained glass windows and the pews shadowy and sleepy. It let him have a moment away for the world to fully appreciate the Lord, a place to think and be content.<p>

At home he'd have to face Isobel, and even after ten years of knowing she had lied to him, of knowing she was a witch, the ache had not dulled. He loved her just as much, but he could never trust her, never be at ease around her.

The door creaked open as Robert crossed out another line of his sermon. He looked up, startled, only to see Minerva walked down the isle, skinny little arms swinging with her long black hair, as she approached him.

"Good evening Daddy," She greeted him, pulling the stool from the small piano the church owned and pulling it up beside his desk in the corner.

"Good evening cricket." Robert replied, pushing his notes aside. He used the nickname only he every called her by.

Minerva smiled warmly at him and peered over his shoulder. "Are you still doing the book of Ruth?"

"I am," Robert replied, his recent sermons had been covering the book of Ruth. It was Minerva's favourite part of the Bible. She loved Ruth's strong will and bravery in the face of hardship. It made Robert proud to see her sitting, straight backed in the front pew with her two-year-old brother, listening intently. She was very good at looking after wee Robbie while Isobel played piano. He loved his little girl to bits.

"You'll do really well on this part Daddy. It's one of my favourite parts of Ruth's story." She assured him, reading over what he'd written so far. Robert watched her. She seemed a little upset under her outward layer of calm. As she read she pressed her lips together. That's when he knew there was something wrong, it was her habit only when something was deeply troubling her.

"Cricket?"

"Yes Daddy?" She asked, raising her brown eyes to meet his.

"Are you okay?" His voice was tender, but Minerva looked defensive.

"Of course daddy," She said. Robert raised his eyebrows and watched in amusment as Minerva raised one eyebrow in return.

She broke first, dropping her gaze. "You don't want to know Daddy,"

"I do," Robert said warmly, enveloping her little cold hands in his big warm ones. "You know you can tell me anything. I want to know what's bothering you."

Minerva stared at the floor and sighed loudly. "Why do you have to sit out here?"

"I like it out here." Robert said, starting to see where she was going with that statement. He didn't want her to know about the deep lonliness that drove him to the one place he could stay calm. He wanted to portect her and keep her happy. "It's so beautiful in the Church at night."

"But why can't you sit at home with me and Mum, and little Robbie?" Minerva asked. There was a deep sorrow in her eyes and Robert felt touched by the motherly gaze. Minerva had always been protective of those she loved.

"I have work to do, and it's a little noisy in the house right now." He didn't want to tell Minerva it was because the sight of her mother hurt him sometimes, sometimes he had to escape. He was already afraid she'd guessed too much of the truth.

"We both know that's not the reason." She said, her voice direct. Robert flinched from her stubborn gaze, and the defiant tilt of her chin. "I'm not a child Daddy, I know you don't like being around m- magic."

Robert wondered if it was merely his imagination that Minerva had stumbled, about to say 'mummy' and not 'magic'. She was certainly smart enough to know what the centre of his pain was. He almost wished she wasn't as smart, then she wouldn't be hurting over the rift in the family. She would be so much more protected if she just didn't notice these things. He wanted to reassure her.

"That's silly Minerva, I'm so proud of your magic." He said firmly, and he saw Minerva's brow furrow. She could obviously hear the truth in those words. It was lucky she couldn't hear the words he'd left unsaid: _It's your mother's magic that hurts me, her magic that makes me feel betrayed. So even though she never uses magic anymore, it still hurts to know she can. And she never told me. She never trusted me. She tried to hide a whole huge part of her life from me. She couldn't trust me. And now I can't really trust her._

"Then why do you hide here?" She asked.

"I don't hide here. This is just my workspace. Come on, I'll come back in with you now, Cricket." He stood and lifted his candle from the table. Minerva blew out the bigger lantern and Robert let the candle light the way down the isle, though the moonlight did that thoroughly enough. Minerva slipped her hand into her and walked beside him. She seemed happy that he was coming back in with her, even though she was still puzzling over his words. He could tell she hadn't let the matter drop. She was just confused by how quickly he'd given in. She didn't realise he'd do anything for her.

"So, has Robbie been good?" He asked, voice warm as he thought about his bouncing boy. Robert was a chubby, healthy, bonnie wee thing who was just beginning to talk well and Robert couldn't have been more proud.

"He's been great!" Minerva enthused. She seemed immediately distracted. "Just after you left he said my name properly, Daddy!"

"He didn't!" Robert gasped, elated by her happiness.

"He did, it was amazing. He's such a great wee brother!" Minerva laughed. "He was playing with my scarf and he started to eat it, so I pulled it out of his mouth and he gave me this stubborn little look and said 'Min-er-VA!' It was adorable! Mummy says he looked like you with that stubborn expression on! It was the cutest thing. She said he'll be a really handsome boy, the way he's growing up to look like his fa-"

Minerva suddenly broke off and Robert realised his hand had tightened around hers. He quickly loosened his grip and smiled at her. Quickly he spoke to cover up. "He really is handsome now. But he's _doomed_ if he grows up like me! How could such a cute baby turn into such an ugly old-"

"Daddy!" Minerva said in exasperated tones, "Stop calling youself old and ugly. _I _think you look just fine!"

Robert laughed at the simplicity of her child assurance and Minerva joined in. She was such a sweetie, trying to defend him and make him feel better.

At that moment they reached the back door of their little house and Minerva swung open the door and waltzed in. Isobel was standing there to greet Minerva and kiss the top of her head, Robert balenced on her hip. Abruptly Isobel's beauty hit in with it's full force and her barely stopped himself from staggering. This happened sometimes. Minerva's voice jumped back into his mind... _really handsome boy, the way he's growing up to look like his father. _Pain shot through his chest at the thought. She was so beautiul, and she though _he _was goodlooking. Yet it didn't change anything. It didn't erase the lies. No amount of love could change the shattered mess of their relationship. Robert tried to shake it off before she noticed.

"Do you want to take Robbie? I'll put Minerva to bed. He had a big nap this afternoon, so he won't be sleepy for and hour or so yet." Isobel asked in her melodic voice, oblivious to his messed up feelings.

"Of course," He held out his hands for his son and Isobel passed him over. He settled Robert in his arms and glanced up to meet Isobel's eyes. They were filled with longing. His own heart hammered in response. She was so wonderful. Why did everything have to be so wrong?

"I love you," She whispered. He almost cringed at the unspoken _but. _Isobel looked up at him with a rueful smile and leaned closer. He couldn't help himself. He kissed her on the lips with all the fire inside him, but as the fire was quenched more seemed to rise up and take it's place. He wasn't satisfied. He wasn't happy. Would he ever be happy?

After an endless moment Isobel broke away.

"I love you too," He whispered in return. And again the _but _hung between them in the silence. _But I will never trust you. Even as much as I love you. But things are still broken between us, but I'll never leave you or forget you. But you still hurt me every time I look at you... but but but but but..._

_But I'll keep on pretending I'm happy because the kids are here. And I'll be a good father and you'll be a good mother, and we'll keep them happy. Because they are more important then anything._

_But that doesn't mean my heart isn't breaking._

* * *

><p>Isn't little Minerva such a lovely wee girl? Please review!<p> 


End file.
